This Hogwarts isn't normal.

Gringotts Bank is a bank managed by goblins and secured by the Ministry of Magic.

It is sold all over the world and is deeply trusted by wizards.

But Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic, came out worried.

Safety?

Safe ass!

Just forget about being sneaked into the vault in broad daylight.

Forget about the suspect running away in style.

It has been more than half an hour since the incident, but not even a hair has been found.

Is this person a man or a woman, and why do you want to mess with the new Minister of Magic?

Fudge, who was wearing a striped black suit, put on his top hat and walked towards the south side of Diagon Alley with his back straight.

People are running away without even a shadow, and reducing losses is the most important thing to do at the moment.

He stood in front of the group of reporters running faster than the elite Aurors of the Ministry of Magic. He put on a false smile and raised his hand to push open the door.

"Everyone, at noon..."

"Rita, do you have a good title?"

"Of course, Chief Editor Guffey."

Fudge swallowed his words.

A blond lady raised her jewel-encrusted glasses on the bridge of her nose and spoke a long list of headlines very fast.

"The Inside Story: The Reason behind the Horrible Theft from Gringotts\

,""The mysterious man returns again?" On why the Ministry of Magic is so slack\

,""Reporter risking his life to bring back news from Gringotts\

,""Is Secretary Fudge a wolf or a sheep?" 》……”

The person involved smiled even more when he heard this.

He walked slowly to Rita, who was still chattering, and took the first draft of the news into her hands in an extremely gentlemanly manner.

"Oh, that's so unfortunate—"

The reporters at the Daily Prophet couldn't help but turn their attention to the editor-in-chief.

Guffey stood up with a flattering smile: "Here you are, Minister Fudge."

Fudge glanced at the first draft, then put it back slowly, "It's just a thief.

Trust me, the Ministry won't let him get away with it for long. "

"Of course," Guffey quickly took the first draft and tore it into pieces.

"Minister Fudge, we at the Daily Prophet have always followed the principle of seeking truth from facts and have never made any random claims."

"I believe you."

Fudge is gone.

His extraordinarily cool and calm figure showed no trace of the embarrassment he felt when he first learned the news.

…

…

The Leaky Cauldron.

It’s no secret that Britain is a food desert.

Sandao Town's famous dishes are famous all over the world.

The uncooked lamb offal is mixed with onions and other seasonings, crushed and squeezed, then stuffed directly into the lamb belly for cooking. Naturally, every bite will make you cry.

Wrapped with fresh sardines in flour and eggs, and then given the divine blessing of the oven, this pie with fish eyes facing the starry sky will make people's hands ready to move just because of its shape.

Finally, eel and vinegar are added to the broth, and the sweet and sour jelly formed after being fully cooled is the ultimate in satisfaction.

"This roasted suckling pig is quite fresh. Vincent wiped the tears from his eyes with his mouth full of oil.

Anyone who has been eating frozen food for eleven years and suddenly has a fresh and juicy meal will be moved to tears on the spot.

His performance gave McGonagall a deeper understanding of the Wayne family's financial situation.

If it hadn't been for the treat from the boss Tom, the family of three would probably not have dared to order these foods made with fresh ingredients.

Oh, what a poor family!

They can't pay the rent;

I can't eat fresh food either.

I can't even afford a mere 100 Galleons.

Life for the Wayne family is really miserable!

Ever since he sobered up, Eric had noticed that there was always something wrong with her eyes.

This feeling of sympathy and pity made him subconsciously slow down when he ate the pickled eel.

"Professor, don't you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry yet," Mag pushed the game pie in front of him forward: "There is still a lot of time in the afternoon, we can eat slowly."

Vincent wiped his oil-spattered mouth with a napkin: "Professor McGonagall, won't it disturb your work?"

“It’s still a long time before school starts—”

Mag rubbed his little head with her palm, "Excluding you, there is only one family left that I have been assigned to visit this year."

Vincent folded the napkin politely, "Great, I hope we can buy everything on the list this afternoon."

"Definitely."

At this moment, a bright light flashed from the fireplace in the bar.

As soon as Rita, who was wearing a light yellow robe, appeared, Mag's face suddenly darkened.

"Who is Mr. Wayne? Please..."

She followed the gaze in the bar and looked at the four people sitting at the bar enjoying lunch.

"Rita, we are having a meal." Mag pursed her lips and did not give her a good look.

"It turns out to be Professor McGonagall, what a coincidence!"

Rita took out her notebook and pen, showed a smile that she thought was charming, and wrote something quickly.

"This must be Mr. Wayne who successfully challenged Gamp..."

She looked at Eric condescendingly, noting the words "big-limbed Muggle."

"Is this your wife?"

Feeling a little confused, Eric nodded.

"Oh, and your son," Rita's expression was as excited as a shark smelling blood: "Mr. Little Wayne has a good physique~"

She reached out and pinched Vincent's upper arm, "Are you born like this?"

"Not exactly..."

"I know." She quickly wrote a line of words: "You will become a well-known figure in the magic world."

"Rita!"

Under McGonagall's unfriendly eyes, she took a half step back angrily.

"Don't worry, I won't write nonsense."

Rita put away her notebook and pen, "The task given to me by the editor-in-chief is just a big news that attracts attention."

"Please." McGonagall spread her hands.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

When she left with the Floo powder, Vincent couldn't help but ask: "Professor, was that the reporter from the Daily Prophet just now?"

"Yes."

McGonagall, feeling uneasy, hesitated several times, and finally said it out: "Rita Skeeter is a reporter, but the articles she wrote..."

She paused, letting her expression ease first, "In short, you'd better beware of this person."

Vincent understood immediately.

How credible can the news written by a reporter who doesn't even follow dining etiquette be?

But this report is taken out of context, can it be as outrageous as a certain letter news?

He calmly drank a sip of tea, "Professor, the protagonist is my father, and my mother and I are just background boards."

"I hope so." McGonagall dispelled her concerns on the surface.

She has secretly made up her mind to pay attention to all reports in the newspaper from tonight.

As for the most important thing now, it is to be a good guide for the Wayne family who have just entered the magic world.

"From the trash can, count three bricks up, and then count two bricks horizontally-"

The Wayne family in the backyard of the bar saw that the moment McGonagall knocked on the correct bricks on the wall, the whole wall began to shrink outward.

At the end of the cobblestone arched passage is Oxford Street in the British magic world, the wizard business center of Diagon Alley.

Vincent is very satisfied with his nickname.

Look at the people coming and going here, all of them are wearing robes and pointed hats.

With all kinds of strange shops, it seems that it is quite appropriate to call it a square.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley--"

McGreg said proudly to the Wayne family: "Welcome to the real magical world."

……

……